Charley Horse
by HowlWind
Summary: While on a routine supply run, Glenn and Daryl run into trouble. Daryl ends up with a leg cramp, and Glenn has to help him massage it out. Unresolved sexual tension ensues.
1. Chapter 1

A car alarm shrieked, breaking the silence that perpetually blanketed the city these days.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIIIIIIIIIII-"

Daryl heard Glenn long before he saw him.

When Glenn came skidding around the corner and flew past him like a bat fresh out of hell, he knew he didn't want to stick around to see what the kid was running from. Daryl took off after him, closing the gap between them quickly.

"The fuck did you do, Short Round?"

"Dude just shut up and RUN!"

Legs pumping, the duo careened through a narrow alleyway. Daryl heard the first of the groans filling the air and hazarded a glance behind them, noticing a growing undead horde filing in behind them.

"OH HOLY FU-"

Daryl slammed straight into Glenn's back, knocking both of them to the ground in a tangle of limbs and assorted weaponry.

"Why'd you stop running, man?"

Glenn scrambled to his feet, gesturing with his baseball bat towards the group of walkers that had appeared in front of them, blocking the end of the alleyway.

"They've got us boxed in!"

"Ah hell."

Daryl lurched towards a door some 15 odd feet in front of them. It must have been the back exit to some store; whatever it led to had to be better than sticking around in this alley. He braced himself and kicked the door just below the doorknob. It shuddered, but didn't give. Cursing, he kicked again and this time was rewarded with a distinct cracking noise as the wood splintered. Daryl grabbed the front of Glenn's shirt and bodily threw him through the doorway, dashing inside after him.

Glenn drew out his flashlight and scanned the interior of the building they'd busted into while Daryl swung the remains of the door shut, and looked for something to block it with. Noticing a dusty filing cabinet in a corner, he started to drag it towards the door. It was heavy- that was good, but it made things harder. He panted with the exertion of pushing the cabinet and grunted, "Some help would be nice, kid."

Satisfied that there wasn't an immediate threat to them inside the building, Glenn came over to help. Together they managed to shove the cabinet in front of the door. Just in time, too- the sound of decaying corpses pushing against the door filled their ears.

"Let's not stick around here. C'mon." Daryl headed the opposite direction, crossbow raised. Glenn shined the flashlight in front of them to light the way.

The store they'd broken into was filled with shelves that had been knocked over, their contents spread all over the floor. This was fairly typical in Atlanta- the city was a fucking mess. Between the riots in the early days when the dead first rose and the subsequent fire-bombing, most stores were now filled with only discarded merchandise and burnt rubble. The two navigated the mess effortlessly.

The plate glass windows at the front of the store had been shattered at some point. Glass was everywhere. Unfortunately, so were the walkers. They hadn't noticed the survivors yet, but with the noise the other geeks were making behind them, it was only a matter of time.

This was bad.


	2. Chapter 2

"Shit." Daryl muttered under his breath. "Talk about being between a fucking rock and a hard place."

"Hold on… This isn't over yet." Glenn pointed- across the street about three buildings down, there was an intact fire escape leading to the roof. "We haul ass down the street and get up that ladder. We'll be safe up there, at least."

"Alright. Get ready to run." Daryl shouldered his crossbow, pulling his hatchet out instead.

The two bolted across the street, booking it for the fire escape. The walkers noticed them immediately, turning sluggishly as the men approached. Without hesitation, Glenn slammed his Louisville slugger straight into the nearest one's forehead. It dropped like a sack of bricks.

Cutting a swath through the geeks, Daryl and Glenn didn't stop moving once. Glenn reached the ladder first, and started the climb. Daryl followed close behind, breathing raggedly as he pulled himself up the rungs. Below them, the dead gathered.

When they reached the top of the roof, both men collapsed bonelessly, out of breath and exhausted. After a moment, Daryl finally managed to gasp, "What… the fuck… did you DO?"

Glenn grimaced. "I, uh, wasn't paying attention."

The two men had come to Atlanta for a routine supply run. Of course, routine these days meant that anything could (and usually did) go wrong at any moment. When shit hit the fan, Daryl had been waiting nearby, ready to cover Glenn at a moment's notice as the kid searched for the supplies on their list.

"I came out of the pharmacy and there was a '66 Mustang convertible sitting _right there_. I just wanted to look inside, I swear. But I must have brushed against it or something, and the alarm… well…" He shrugged helplessly, and waited for the berating that would no doubt follow.

When none came, Glenn glanced over at Daryl and noticed the man clutching his leg, a pained expression on his face.

"Holy shit Daryl, did one of them get you?" he gasped, as he scrambled over to the older man's side.

Daryl spoke through gritted teeth. "No, idiot. Got a damn leg cramp."

Glenn's breath whooshed out of his in a relieved sigh. "Dude, you had me worried. I thought you got bit by a crawler or something. Here, stretch your leg out."

Daryl waved him away. "I'm a damn adult, I can take care of myself."

The kid threw up his hands, backing up. "Fine, suit yourself. Stubborn asshole."

"If you been more careful, this clusterfuck wouldn't have happened in this first place!"

They glared at each other angrily. "I'm sorry, alright? I didn't think. It was a mistake."

"That doesn't make me feel better, kid."

Glenn snorted. "If you listened to me and let me help you, you WOULD feel better."

"Fine. Whatever. Help me out."

"What was that?"

"...Help me. Please. This sucks."


	3. Chapter 3

_[Author's note: Again, this is a filling for a Kinkmeme prompt. And as per my usual, I'm making it way longer than it needs to be. Buuuuuuuuuut I just finished my Chinese Art History final exam, so hey! Copious amounts of free time to waste on fanfiction now. Rock on. Thanks for reading, hope you're enjoying it!]_

Moving to his side again, Glenn sat down in front of Daryl, reaching for his leg. "Drink some water while I do this, dehydration only makes cramps worse."

Daryl fished a canteen out of his rucksack and drank deeply as Glenn began to roll his pant leg up. Daryl wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and growled, "No funny stuff now."

"Dude, please." Glenn rolled his eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

Truth be told, if he and Daryl were the last two people on Earth (and hey, these days even _that_ scenario couldn't be ruled out as a future possibility), Glenn probably wouldn't complain much. The guy wasn't bad looking, for a redneck. Pushing the thought aside, he dug his fingers into the tight muscles in Daryl's calf, eliciting a jump and a shout from the older man.

"Fuckin' A, watch it! That shit is tender."

"That's the point, you pussy. Hold still and shut up."

Daryl scowled and Glenn grinned back at him, massaging his calf with surprisingly strong fingers. Daryl finally leaned back against the ledge surrounding the rooftop, closing his eyes. As a particularly sore spot was reached, he groaned- _loudly_.

Glenn bit his lip, holding back laughter… and something else. Hearing a noise like that come from Daryl was kind of… sexy? What the hell?

"Don't stop."

The kid obliged, kneading the leg gently as Daryl relaxed even more, moans of relief escaping him periodically. Glenn shifted restlessly; this wasn't what he'd expected. This was downright surreal. His eyes searched Daryl's face freely- the other man's eyes were still shut tight- and Glenn was surprised to find that the guy was actually really attractive. For all the time they'd spent around each other, he'd never really spent a lot of time _alone_ with the hunter. Or thinking about him, for that matter. But now that he was actually touching the guy, straight up skin-to-skin contact… He watched as Daryl's eyes moved under his eyelids, the muscles of his arms flexing as he habitually clenched and unclenched his fists, the way his lips parted as another relieved gasp of appreciation fell from between them…

…._fuck. _

Glenn was getting turned on. By touching another man. And not just _any _man- he was getting turned on by touching Daryl. Goddamn._ Dixon_.

He stopped abruptly, dropping Daryl's leg and scooting back a few feet. Dixon's eyes flew open to meet his questioningly.

"I'm gonna check out the situation, you know, see what's going on, down on the street. How many walkers and all. Yeah." Glenn strode quickly towards the opposite edge of the rooftop, glad that night was finally falling. It would make the blush that was spreading across his hot face easier to hide. Placing his hands on the ledge, he leaned over slightly.

"…Oh man."


	4. Chapter 4

Daryl had been hesitant to let the other man touch him, but the pain in his calf had proved too much to bear with any amount of quiet dignity. When the kid's fingers first brushed his leg, he still had his doubts. But when he really started working the muscles, Daryl melted like butter. Nothing had ever felt as good as Glenn gently working those nimble fingers against his aching calf. He couldn't help the noises he made. Didn't even care about it much. Now that he thought on it, it was nice just to be touched again. By anyone. Little things like the simple touch of another human being meant so much more now that the world had ended. And the fact that it was Glenn, well… that was pretty okay too.

Out of all the others in their group, Daryl felt like he got along with the kid the most. They both had innate survival instincts that the others seemed to lack. Deadly in hand-to-hand combat, quick on their feet and quicker yet with deciding which actions to take- it just seemed natural that they'd get along. Didn't hurt that the kid had a good personality, too.

Daryl had never thought he'd be interested in other men (people in general weren't really his thing), but with the seemingly apocalyptic state of the world these days, good company was hard to find. Who was he to be picky about gender? Not that he had seriously entertained thoughts of getting together with someone. At least, not before now.

Damn, the kid had magic fingers.

It felt so fucking good, those fingers digging at the sore muscles in his leg. He had just started to idly imagine what they would feel like over the rest of his body when the sensations abruptly stopped. He opened his eyes in time to catch Glenn's hasty retreat, his mumbled reason for stopping quickly followed by that ominously muttered, "…Oh man."

Daryl pushed himself to his feet and hobbled over, leg still throbbing. "What is… Huh. Lookit that."

The street below them was swarming with walkers.

"Looks like we got the attention'a half the damn city."

Glenn just stared down, desolation etched on his face. "What do we do now?"

Daryl shrugged. "Dunno. Wait? Hope they go away? Ain't much we can do now 'cept give it some time. See what happens. Comon, let's get some dinner goin', I'm half starved to death." He reached for Glenn's shoulder to pull him from the ledge, and the boy reacted like he'd been prodded with a hot poker. He jerked his arm away from Daryl, and turned quickly away- but not before the older man caught a glimpse of the red flush spreading over the kid's face, illuminated briefly in the dying light.


	5. Chapter 5

Neither man was much of a talker under normal circumstances. And this was far from normal. This was _weird_. First dance in middle school weird. They seemed to have forgotten how to act around each other.

What the fuck was going on?

They had just set up their sleeping bags (a good distance away from each other) when the rain started.

That was the last straw. "Are you KIDDING me?" Glenn shouted, kicking his sleeping bag angrily. "WHY CAN'T WE CATCH A BREAK?"

"Calm down kid, we brought a tent. Rain won't last long anyway." Daryl moved quickly, setting up the tent in record time. Finally, here was something he understood, a simple problem that he could address and fix easily. Things had somehow got pretty fucked up tonight, but at least they'd both stay dry and warm. They tossed most of their gear inside the tent, pushing it to a corner and rolling out their sleeping bags again. Daryl lit a small lantern and hung it from one of the support poles.

Glenn felt like his stomach was doing somersaults. Where the hell was this coming from? Five hours ago he couldn't have cared less about sleeping a foot away from Daryl Dixon, but now it seemed like A Big Fucking Deal. All he had to do was think about his fingers gliding over the man's warm, insanely muscled leg and the groans the older man had made, and his core temperature seemed to rise roughly 5000 degrees in an instant.

This was ridiculous.

Daryl wasn't in much better shape. His leg was still killing him, intermittently sending spikes of pain shooting through the limb. Add that to the sudden realization that he might be attracted to the kid he relied on to help keep him alive on missions, and Daryl's life had just gotten a _hell_ of a lot more complicated.

They worked in silence, pushing their sleeping bags into position (side by side now, the tent was not spacious) and shedding their damp clothes until they were both in their boxers. Daryl sat down suddenly on top of his sleeping bag, grabbing at his leg with a frustrated grunt. Glenn looked at him pensively out of the corner of his eye. "Your leg is still bothering you?"

"Yeah. Was feelin' better for a while, but the cramp came back durin' dinner. Not as bad as before, though."

Glenn worried at his lip, stalling for a second. He knew the best thing to do would be to just help the guy out. But this was almost too much to bear. Pushing down his feelings of doubt, he dropped down next to Daryl once more and reached for his leg. This time, Daryl accepted the attention without complaint.

The kid worked at his leg expertly this time, already familiar with the spots that would be the most sore. Daryl leaned back on his elbows, and silently watched Glenn work on his leg. He did his best to not make too much noise this time; things were already awkward, no sense exacerbating the situation.

Things were going smoothly until Glenn hit a spot just behind Daryl's knee.

Daryl jerked forward with a gasp, so fast that Glenn didn't have time to react as the older man's hand wrapped iron tight around his wrist. They sat there unmoving for a long moment, staring at the tenuous connection between them made by that grip. Their bare upper bodies were only inches away now, and the air in the tent suddenly seemed too thick to breathe. Glenn felt light headed, his face burned like a brand. He glanced up, noticing that Daryl was staring at him intensely with an unreadable expression on his face. Their eyes met for a brief electric moment.

Abruptly, Daryl dropped the kid's hand. "That was a real sore spot. Sorry. Couldn' handle it. Feel better though, thanks. G'night." With that, he rolled himself into his sleeping bag and turned his back to the other man.

"Yeah. No problem. 'night." Glenn blew out the lantern and crawled into his own sleeping bag, pulling it tightly around him. The rain pattered lightly on the nylon above them, the noise accompanied by the distant moans of the once-living.

Both survivors drifted to sleep, thinking of the man lying next to him.

_[Author's note: Here's the end of the first part! The second part will have a role reversal (Glenn gets a cramp, Daryl has to help) and the sexual tension will eventually be resolved… SOMEHOW. Stay tuned!]_


	6. Chapter 6

_[Author's note: Back from a holiday hiatus. Here's a bit of a slow start to the last half of this story, with the boys already back at camp.]_

Daryl was leaning against a tree and sleeping soundly. When he wasn't stalking around with his crossbow and an ominous glare on his face, he looked downright peaceful.

Glenn kicked Daryl's outstretched foot, shattering the illusion.

"Huh, wha…" Daryl woke up, startled. "The shit you want, kid?"

"We gotta go. Lori needs some things. Comon."

Daryl stood up, stretching. "Again? These people go through supplies like nothing. Damn." He complained, but really, Daryl was ready to head into the city again. Anything to get away from camp for a few days.

The two men had returned from their last disastrous mission two weeks ago. They'd been stuck on the roof for three (long, weird, awkward) days until enough of the walkers dispersed and they could escape safely. They'd practically been tip-toeing around each other the whole time, which just made the wait seem that much longer. Upon arriving back at camp, both men went their separate ways again- Daryl into the woods to hunt, and Glenn helping out with random chores. Being thrown together again while hunting for goods was going to be a little uncomfortable, but maybe they'd both moved past the weirdness by now.

The drive to the city was uneventful. Glenn didn't know if he'd ever get over the strange new landscape surrounding the city- formerly bustling suburbs reduced to burnt rubble, broken down cars littering the roadways and ditches. The once familiar city was an alien world now. It was uniquely devastating to remember how things were just a few short months ago, and then look out the window and see nothing but destruction. Glenn rested his forehead against the window. How depressing.

The truck rolled to a stop just outside of the main city limits. They'd been doing this often enough that they had a default parking spot- just inside the burnt shell of a building. It hid the truck from plain view, in case there were any other survivors lurking around looking for a working vehicle. Grabbing their packs and weapons, the two men hopped out of the truck and made their way in to the city. "Let's be more careful this time. I don't want to get stuck on a goddamn roof again."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Glenn muttered. "Last thing I want to do is be alone longer than necessary with your crotchety ass."

Daryl chuckled. That took Glenn by surprise- getting the man to laugh was normally next to impossible, something you could only accomplish with too much alcohol and not enough sleep. "Same to you, kid. Being trapped with a moody teenager isn't my idea of a fun time."

"Hey, I'm not a teen-"

"Quiet!" Daryl hissed, suddenly throwing his arm out, catching Glenn across the chest with it. Glenn quieted immediately and gripped his weapon with anticipation. The only sound he could hear was their breathing, until…

"Hear that?" he whispered.

Daryl grunted an affirmative. They could hear it more clearly now, the sound of something being dragged down the street. Keeping his voice low, he spoke: "Probably just a walker with a fucked up leg or something, not a big deal. Keep aware, keep quiet. Got the lists?"

"Yeah, one sec." Glenn fished in his pockets, finally drawing out two pieces of paper. "Here, you hit up the sporting goods store. I'll head to the pharmacy and see if there's anything left in the convenience store next door. Meet back here in an hour?"

"Yeah, sounds fine. Good luck."

"You too, Daryl."

"Don't need luck. I'm just that good." With that parting remark, Daryl strode down an alleyway headed north towards his destination, crossbow prepped and raised. Glenn shook his head, a grin creeping across his face. The guy was funny, had to hand that to him. It wasn't always the kind of humor you'd expect, but still… No time to get distracted thinking about him now, though. Swinging his baseball bat casually, Glenn took off for the stores he'd assigned to himself.

Time to do what he did best.


	7. Chapter 7

Turns out Daryl could have used a little luck after all. The sporting goods store he'd been to twice previously had been torched at some point in the last two weeks. That was a risk they ran in to now- other survivors ruining things for everyone else. Cussing loudly, he kicked a chunk of blackened lumber aside. Now what? He could try and find a similar store in this sector, but Glenn had the fucking maps in his bag, and Daryl never was much of a city person.

"Fuck it all."

Daryl dug around in the building's remains for a while, sifting through debris to see if there was anything salvageable within. He found a few metal canteens that were more-or-less useable and some other random items, but most of the stores contents were useless. That was that, then. He exited the store. An analog clock hanging in a nearby store informed him that only 15 minutes had passed, leaving him a hefty amount of time to waste. He could go help Glenn, or explore a little bit. Remembering how tense things still were between him and the kid, he opted for the latter choice. Some of the buildings a block over had looked promising; he would start there.

He drank water as he walked. It was hotter than hell out today, and ever since Glenn had told him that dehydration causes cramps, he'd been pretty religious about drinking enough water. Not that he would necessarily mind having Glenn massage his leg again…

Daryl mentally scolded himself- there was work to do, not time to dwell on that kind of happy bullshit. He hadn't been able to shake the feeling of Glenn's fingers on his leg for the last two weeks, but thinking about it now was a distraction he couldn't afford. He continued down the street, determined to find a store worth raiding so he'd have something to show for his effort. Breathing in deep, he felt an inexplicable joy growing in his chest. Sometimes, Daryl thought he had been born for this world.

He understood walkers. They were not complicated creatures. They just wanted to eat your flesh- simple and straightforward as that. People, on the other hand. Well, Daryl had always had a problem understanding people. He'd put good money on the fact that most of it was due to his less-than-stellar upbringing. But walkers? Damn, give him a walker and he knew what to do. Lay 'em out, destroy the brain. And the thing was, he was _good_ at it. Better than any of the other survivors, to boot. Daryl liked that; it made him feel like he was an important part of the group. That was something he'd never felt before the end of the world- that he had a place. That he was important. Sometimes it made him downright happy. Go figure… It took the end of the world for Daryl Dixon to find his place in it.

He turned the corner and the scene in front of his was so unexpected that he didn't have time to react before a gun was pressed snugly against his temple.

"…Shit."


	8. Chapter 8

_[Author's Note:_ _You guys are so patient and I'm such a dick for not updating more promptly! Thanks for reading, I'm loving the reviews you all are leaving. Anyway, here's the next installment- I had to figure out where things are going, but I think shit's just about to get good. Cross your fingers for the boys!]_

Glenn was busy crossing items off his list when he heard the gunshots.

"Oh shit, no no no no NO!"

He bolted. They hadn't brought guns, neither of them. So who the fuck was shooting? His mind raced with possibilities, each scenario more terrifying than the next. All of them starring Dayrl: Daryl in trouble, Daryl hurt, Daryl bleeding to death in the street… "SHIT." He ran faster, headed in the direction he thought the shots had come from.

His breath tore through his chest, ragged and harsh. It was intensely hot today and sweat had been pouring off his body even before he started running. His body was going to make him pay for this exertion later, but right now his entire being was consumed with worry for his partner. Glenn reached the shop Daryl was supposed to be searching, and found nothing but the burnt shell of the store. He wheeled around abruptly and sprinted down the nearest alley.

"DARYL", he bellowed. "DARYL GODDAMMIT, WHERE ARE YOU?"

Rationally, he knew it was a shitty idea to be making this much noise, but he couldn't help himself. His fear had progressed into blind panic- how the fuck was he supposed to figure out where Daryl had gone after finding the store burnt down? Feet pounding on the pavement, he rounded a corner and skidded to a halt.

There were geeks everywhere. Tons of them milling in the street, clustered around a central point. Amidst the teeming mob he could see a pair of boot-clad feet sticking, shaking as the walkers devoured the poor sap who was wearing them.

Without thinking, Glenn took a step forward- "Daryl? No, shit no. Fuck, FUCK, FU-"

Arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, a strong hand clamping over his mouth as he was tugged backwards into someone's chest.

"Shut it, kid."

Glenn's mind flooded with relief at the sound of that familiar gruff voice. Daryl was safe. Somehow, he was safe. His heart felt like it was going to explode from the rush of adrenaline he'd just experienced. The older man pulled him away from the walkers and into a store; luckily for them, the undead had been too occupied with feeding to pay them much attention. "Come on. We gotta get up these stairs. There'll be more walkers coming after all that noise you just made."

Regaining some of his senses, Glenn stumbled after Daryl who hastily advanced up a flight of stairs at the back of the store. At the top of the steps was a door that was mercifully unlocked- they pushed through it and let it swing shut behind them before engaging the lock. A quick scan of their surroundings informed them that they were in an unoccupied (by the living or the dead) apartment. In sync, they moved towards a couch and lifted it, dropping it in front of the door. Using some other large pieces of furniture, they created a solid barricade that would keep them safe. Glenn collapsed to the floor when they finished. He was completely exhausted.

Daryl did another sweep of the apartment just to be safe. He walked back out and reported, "One bedroom, a bathroom, small kitchen and living room. Empty. Nothin's been here for a while. We should be good 'til things settle outside."

Unable to respond, Glenn just stared at him- and noticed he was bleeding. "Daryl, your arm is-"

"I know. Just a scratch. I'll be fine." Daryl crouched in front of the kid. "You ain't lookin' so good, boy." Reaching out, he placed the back of his hand against Glenn's forehead, surprising them both. "You're burning up. What'd you do, run the whole way over?"

Glenn just shut his eyes and gave a slight nod. "Yeah, I heard the shots and I panicked. Thought you were dead for sure."

Daryl grunted, then dropped his pack down next to them and fished a full canteen out of it. "I'll tell you all about it as soon as we get some water into you." He handed the canteen to Glenn, who accepted it graciously before swigging a healthy amount of water. He then promptly leaned over and threw up all over the floor.

Daryl eyed him pensively as Glenn retched up all the water he had just drank.

"It's gonna be one of those kind of days again, huh?"


	9. Chapter 9

Considering the way he puked his guts up, it was easy to see that Glenn was riding out the after-effects of a wicked adrenaline rush. The way he was shaking, he was probably suffering from some amount of dehydration as well. Daryl grunted as he helped the kid to his feet, pulling Glenn's arm over his own shoulder so he could half-drag, half-carry him to the bedroom. "The hell you think you were doing? I know you had a full canteen, dumbass. Day like this, you gotta keep water in you."

Glenn's head lolled against his chest. "Just wasn't thinkin'. That's all."

"Yeah, well, not thinking is a good way to get your fool ass killed these days. Shit." Daryl slung the kid down on the bed, where he lay in a boneless heap. "You think I want to explain to everyone back at camp why I came back minus one uppity Asian?"

"Shut up. You're not my mom."

Daryl choked on a laugh. "What did you say?"

"Said you aren't my mom. Stop lecturing me. I'm a grown ass man."

Shaking his head, Daryl replied, "Fuckin' comedian is what you are, boy." He slid out of the room again, leaving Glenn to stare contemplatively at the ceiling. His muscles felt like they were shredded, and his stomach ached from throwing up so violently. If he never had to move again, that would be fine by him. He sighed. At least they were both alive. Mark down one more mess they'd gotten themselves into by not being careful enough, though; they were building quite a record between the two of them.

The padding of footsteps announced Daryl's arrival back into the room. He suddenly appeared in Glenn's line of sight as he leaned over the boy. Glenn blinked. "What now?"

"You tell me." Daryl disappeared again- the bed shook as he sat on the edge of it. "Geeks are everywhere outside- it's a fucking feeding frenzy. Must be the first time they had fresh meat in a long stretch. Here, try again." He dropped the canteen gently on Glenn's chest. "Little gulps this time. Don't shock your stomach. Need to get fluid into you so we're ready to bolt when the walkers leave."

Glenn sat up slowly, then pushed back to lean against the wall. As he unscrewed the canteen's cap, he eyed Daryl gloomily. "I thought you were dead, you dick." He tried a small sip of the water.

"I'm fine. And what the fuck did you think that for?"

"I saw the body out there. What else was I supposed to think?" He grimaced. The water did nothing to soothe his raw throat.

Daryl leaned back against the wall as well, closing his eyes. "Dunno, just thought you'd have a little more faith in me is all."

Glenn punched him in the arm. "What happened, asshole? Those gunshots-"

"Yeah yeah, just chill out and drink your water. I'm gettin' to it."


	10. Chapter 10

_[Author's note: Finally, Glenn gets to hear what Daryl's been up to! This is a flashback scene (marked as such by the italic font and asterisks). It'll bring everyone up to speed, before getting back to the boys stuck in the apartment. Enjoy.]_

_***Daryl turned the corner, and the scene in front of his was so unexpected that he didn't have time to react before a gun was pressed snugly against his temple. _

"…_Shit."_

"'_Shit' is right, buddy. Now drop your fucking weapon, real easy."_

_Daryl let go of his crossbow, no questions asked; it was summarily kicked aside by whoever was holding the gun to his head. "Good. Try anything funny, I'll shoot you."_

"_Fair enough."_

_The cool metal of the gun barrel pulled away from his skin. A shiver ran up Daryl's spine. There was no getting used to that sensation._

"_Come over, Louise." _

_The woman Daryl had seen upon turning the corner walked towards him. She was dragging a bag behind her- that explained the noise he and Glenn had heard earlier. He found himself feeling glad they hadn't run into these other survivors then- at least now, it was only him in danger, not the kid as well._

"_Where'd he come from?"_

"_No clue. Cocksucker took me by surprise. Grab that bow."_

"_What are we going to do with him?" The woman bent over and picked up the crossbow._

"_How about you let me go, and we forget this whole thing ever happened?"_

_The man slammed the pistol into the side of Daryl's head, making his vision spark white for a second. "Shut up. Nobody asked you."_

_The woman suddenly froze. "Did you hear that?" _

"_It's nothing. This area is clear." The man yanked Daryl's pack off his shoulder and threw it towards the woman. "Go through that, see if there's anything inside. You got anyone else with you?"_

"_Nah. Just me."_

_The man eyed him pensively for a second, then seemed to take him at his word. Without taking his eyes off Daryl, he called to the woman:"Find anything useful?" _

_She shook her head. "Just a few canteens, some dried meat and stuff. Nothing special."_

"_Well shit. Guess you've outgrown your usefulness, buddy." He clicked the safety off his gun._

_Daryl's eyes tracked something moving behind the man. "Not quite yet."_

"_Huh?"_

_The woman shrieked as a walker grabbed her. It had stepped out from behind a storefront adjacent to them; she'd been distracted by searching the bag, and the man had been too busy running his mouth to notice it. Cursing, the man swung his gun up. Daryl threw his fist out, making contact with the shooter's hand just in time to knock it off center as the man fired. The first bullet grazed Daryl's arm before slamming home into a wall. The second hit the man's companion; the third and fourth round ricocheted off a dumpster uselessly. Ignoring the flash of pain, he threw himself forward into the shooter, knocking them both to the ground; the gun flew out of the man's hand. Meanwhile, the woman screamed as the geek proceeded to eat her alive._

_Daryl punched the man twice in the temple, knocking him out. Scrambling to his feet, he lurched forward and grabbed his crossbow. The walker was busy eating the woman and paid him little mind, but he could already hear the growing moans of a nearing crowd of zombies. Slinging his pack over his uninjured left arm again, Daryl withdrew quietly into the storefront. He'd wait here- sound carried in this dead city, Glenn would no doubt be on his way over right now to see what the gunshots were about. Daryl didn't want him to blindly run into this mess on his own._

_He crouched low and waited as the dead drew near._

_Attracted by the gunshot and the smell of fresh blood, walkers poured into the street in front of Daryl. They gathered around the fallen couple and started mindlessly grabbing for any piece of flesh they could reach. Daryl grimaced; the woman had stopped shrieking, but the man woke up hollering as the first set of teeth sunk deep into his bicep. Dying wasn't pretty at the best of times, and this was just a fucking mess. He knew he'd be hearing the man's dying screams in his dreams for weeks to come._

_The seconds seemed to drag by like hours; Daryl was just getting ready to give up and move when Glenn came careening around the corner. The kid came to a sudden stop when he saw the geeks, but then amazingly he took a step forward and started yelling his head off. "Daryl? No, shit no. Fuck, FUCK, FU-"_

_Daryl threw his crossbow aside and surged out of the storefront, wrapping his arms around Glenn and pulling his close while clamping one hand over his mouth. _

"_Shut it, kid." ***_


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's note: Sorry for the wait, but we're back in business now_.

It was funny how quickly Daryl and Glenn became accustomed to the sound of the walkers milling around outside, and began to tune it out. What began as a loud assortment of moans and the sounds of dragging limbs soon faded to a dull roar in the background. If they didn't think about it too hard, the sound was kind of soothing. A static murmur that was just… _there._

Human beings are incredibly adaptable.

"So… the first survivors we meet in god knows how long, they're assholes, try to kill you, and they become walker bait."

"Pretty much."

Glenn ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully. "Well. Glad it wasn't you."

"That makes two of us."

"The geeks aren't leaving any time soon, are they?"

"Dunno. Once they finish their meal there's nothing keepin' 'em here. Then again, there's nothing drawin' them away neither."

"Shit."

"Pretty much." Daryl closed his eyes. It had been a long day, and an even longer time since he'd been on a real bed. The exhaustion combined with the relative safety of their surroundings quickly led to him dowsing off, propped against the wall next to Glenn.

As the sound of Daryl's breathing slowed, Glenn's eyes begin to drift shut too. He had finally stopped shaking, and it no longer felt like molten lead was rushing through his veins. Maybe he'd just take a little nap…

…_THUD._

Glenn jerked awake violently, sweat pouring off his body. "Wha-"

"_Shhhhh_" a voice hissed.

_THUD._

It was dark in the room now. So much for a little nap; Glenn had slept the rest of the day away. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Daryl's form silhouetted against the window in the adjacent room. The figure beckoned, and Glenn pulled himself off the bed with a grimace. Every one of his muscles seemed to protest the action, but it felt good to move again. Stiffly, he joined Daryl at the window. Together they peered out to the street below.

_THUD._

Below them in the street, a single walker mindlessly threw itself against a dumpster.

"What's it doing?" Glenn whispered.

_THUD._

"Don't know. It came over on its own and started doin' that for no reason I can tell."

"Do you think it knows we're here?"

Daryl bit his lip, a small move that threw Glenn's heart spinning into a death roll. "Could be. Only thing I can figure is it smells us somehow."

_THUD._

"Maybe it'll go away after a while?"

"Maybe." Daryl propped his elbows on the sill and rested his chin in his hands, eyes on the walker. "We're safe here for now, so it's not too big of a deal."

As they watched, the walker backed away from the dumpster. Its arm hung limply at its side, splintered bone sticking through flesh.

Glenn turned so his back was facing the window and collapsed to the ground, back against the wall. He dropped his head into his hands.

_THUD._

"Is that really how we end up?"

"Hmm?"

"Look at that shit, Daryl. It doesn't even care that it's destroying its own body. Jesus, dude. Is that how it ends for us?"

Daryl titled his head to look at Glenn.

Glenn rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hands, shaking his head. "If that's it, man, I just don't know."

_THUD._

"Well, we're alive now."

"Yeah, but for how long?"

"Don't have a fuckin' clue. In that respect, nothing's changed."

Glenn looked up. "What do you mean?"

_THUD._

Daryl had resumed gazing outside. "Think about it. Death was always there, even before…" he gestured outside, "…This. Any moment could've been the last, ya know? Car accident, heart attack, sudden illness… Shit. This ain't nothin' new. Only difference is, now you'll come back."

Glenn grimaced.

Daryl glanced down at him again. "We're born, we live, we die. That's how it works. Just an extra step in there now is all. It'll take some getting used to, but shit, make the best of it, you know? Like I said, we're alive now. Things could be worse."

_THUD._

"Whatever you say, man. But if I ever turn, you put me down quick. Before I can turn into that… please?"

Daryl dropped a hand down and rested it on Glenn's head in a companionable manner. Without thinking, Glenn leaned against Daryl's leg.

_THUD._

Things could be worse, indeed.


	12. Chapter 12

The next day Glenn woke, and was confused by the ceiling.

At this point he was so used to staring at the stars, the canvas tops of tents, or the plastic of the RV that the sight of a stucco ceiling completely threw him for a loop. Where was he…? He rolled over, and was greeted by an even more confusing sight. Daryl Dixon's sleeping face, inches away from his.

It was enough to steal the breath right from Glenn's lungs.

Daryl's face brought the events of the past day back in a rush. Their arrival in the city, the gunshots, the certainty that something awful had happened, the relief when they found each other still alive. The apartment. The horde.

_Fuck. The horde._

Glenn could hear it now, the moans of the undead crowd surrounding their building. He didn't know how they were going to get out of this, and back to their group. Things were pretty dire right now. And yet…

He stared at the man next to him. Daryl's eyes were tightly shut, his breathing steady. He had the blanket wrapped around one hand and pulled up to his mouth. Despite his age, the hardships of his life- hell, the hardships of this _year_- there was something so innocent and peaceful about him in this moment. Something childlike.

Maybe things weren't that bad after all.

"Hey."

Daryl's eyes slowly opened. "Mmm?" He blinked once, and a perplexed look stole over his face.

"Time to wake up. We need to start thinking about how we're going to get out of here."

Daryl groaned and rolled over onto his back. "Fuck. Was kinda hopin' that whole thing was a dream."

"I don't think I've ever had that kind of good luck."

Glenn swung his legs over the side of the bed and winced as his feet touched the ground. His muscles ached dully. He pushed himself to his feet. "I feel like I'm about a hundred years old. Is this what you feel like every day?"

Daryl grunted. "Very funny, asshole. I ain't that much older than you." He sat up, squinting. "Any bright ideas on how exactly we get ourselves outta this mess?"

"Nah" Glenn gestured at the window, "Sounds like there's still a lot of them out there."

"Fuck it. Let's just stay here forever." Daryl dropped backwards onto the bed and pulled the covers back over his head. "I don' wanna deal with that shit right now."

Glenn grinned. "You a quitter now, Dixon?"

The lump under the blanket spoke: "No. Yes. Shut up. I'm tired."

Grabbing the end of the blanket, Glenn whipped it off the bed and Daryl's prone form. "Come on. Let's get going while we have the daylight to work with." He strode over to the window and let out a low whistle.

"Lotta them?" Daryl asked as he finally joined him at his side.

"Whole lot."

"Shit" Daryl murmured in agreement."Whole damn lot."

The number of walkers outside had tripled in size. They milled about aimlessly below the apartment, filling the surrounding streets and alleyways. This was a fucking mess.

Glenn shook his head. "I'm open to suggestions as of now. Because I'm kind of at a loss."

"Why not just… run through them?"

The kid stared at him as if he'd lost his mind.

"Sure, there are a lot of them. But you know they're slow. Walkers ain't got shit on two able-bodies like you and me. We ain't got far to go, either. Just to the truck."

"I don't know. It seems too risky."

Daryl snorted. "'Course it's fuckin' risky. But I don't see that we have a lot of other options right now. There isn't enough food or water to last more than a day, and by the time enough of these damn walkers decide to clear out, we might be too weak to get away properly. I say we do it now, while we're still able."

Glenn didn't like it. But it was becoming apparent that there was no clean solution, so he just nodded his head wearily.

They would run.


	13. Chapter 13

_[Thanks for the reviews- I love reading them! I'm going to make a push to finish this without any months-long breaks this time. Promise.]_

Daryl made a sweep of the apartment, one last time. He didn't want to leave anything behind.

Glenn was pacing in front of the window. "This is crazy, Daryl. This is a really shit idea."

"It's this or quietly starve in this deathtrap. I don't know about you, but I'd rather go out fighting if that's what it comes down to."

"So how do we do it?"

Daryl looked at him, considering. "Jump out the window, hit the dumpster. Hop down and run like hell."

"We're going to die, aren't we."

"I'm giving it about a 50/50 chance."

Glenn grinned at that, settling back to lean against the wall. "I've faced worse odds before." He closed his eyes. "It'll be nice to get back to the group again. I miss everybody."

Daryl grunted. "The quiet's been nice." He finished readjusting everything in his pack, and slung it over his shoulder with a sense of finality. "'bout that time, I'd guess."

Glenn's eyes flew open, and locked onto Daryl's. They stood there for a long moment in silence. Daryl finally dropped his gaze and ran his fingers through his hair in the frustrated manner that Glenn had grown accustomed to. "Look, kid. If we don't make it out of this alive, it's…" He found himself at a loss for words.

"What? It's been good? Here's looking at you, kid? You're getting cheesy in your old age, dude." Glenn pushed off the wall, only to immediately fall back as Daryl stepped forward. The older man moved quickly until they were separated by inches, placing one hand on the wall behind Glenn's head. Their eyes met again.

The world slowed to a halt.

"I was going to say… It's funny, but out of all the people left in the world, I can't think of anyone else I'd want to face the end with."

With that, Daryl leaned forward and pressed his lips against Glenn's. The world started up again with a stutter, and burst into flame that spread throughout the younger man's entire body. He moved his arm to grab at the small of Daryl's back, clutching his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin underneath it. Their lips crushed together for a long, perfect moment.

And just as soon as it began, it ended. Daryl pulled away, moving his hand from the wall to briefly rest on Glenn's cheek. It was cool and calloused. Then it was gone.

"Time to run, kid."


	14. Chapter 14

Glenn hit the ground running. His legs pumped like pistons, and his heart was thumping in time. They had to make it out of this; there was no other option. The kiss had electrified him… Suddenly, he had something tangible to look forward to.

They had agreed on a plan. He would go first, Daryl would follow immediately after. Just run- don't look back or stop for anything. The walkers had cleared enough that they had a makeshift path, but it wasn't much, and it wouldn't last.

Murphy's Law was written for moments like this.

Daryl's foot slipped on the top of the dumpster as he jumped, and he skidded off of it. He landed hard on his ankle which gave way with a distinctly unpleasant _'pop'_, his head simultaneously slamming into the corner of the trash bin_._ The agony was immediate and blinding.

Glenn turned at the sound of his partner's yell of pain. His eyes widened on taking in the scene- Daryl struggling to stand up, the walkers turning and begin to converge on his location.

"DARYL!"

"FUCK OFF GLENN. RUN!"

_Hell no_. Glenn sprinted back to Daryl, pausing only to crush the skull of a walker that stood in his path. He grabbed Daryl's arm and hauled him up. "Get your ass up, we gotta head **now**."

"We're both gonna be walker food, you tryin' to carry me outta here like this."

"Better to die together than alone, right?"

Their progress was painstakingly slow. Daryl limped as fast as he could, leaning heavily on Glenn for support. Each man had a hand free to hold their weapons, but that wasn't particularly comforting when they were surrounded on all sides.

"Shitshitshitshitshitshit." Daryl felt a hand grab at his pant leg and he instinctively kicked backwards, gasping as his injured foot made contact with a crawler's skull. His vision blurred, and briefly went black. Glenn's shout brought him back to the surface of consciousness quickly enough, but they just weren't moving fast enough.

"Come on Daryl, stay with me! We're almost to the truck."

"I can't. You have to leave me. We both know we're not going to make it like this."

Glenn groaned. It was true- they were being swarmed, and Daryl was on the verge of blacking out completely. He made a snap decision and turned abruptly, pulling them towards the nearest storefront. The door was ajar; once inside he kicked it shut, hoping to buy them a few minutes.

Daryl's head drooped, brushing Glenn's shoulder- he had passed out. Panicked, the younger man scanned the store before locating a utility closet. Partially lifting his unconscious friend, he dragged him to the closet and lowered him to the ground inside.

"Daryl."

There was no response.

"DARYL. Please man, common."

His eyes fluttered before finally focusing on Glenn's tortured face.

"Daryl, I'll be back for you. Just stay here- I'll draw the walkers away."

"Glenn."

"Yeah?"

"Go."

Glenn grimaced, and fled.


End file.
